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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28910127">Deviants of the 104th</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancient_angst/pseuds/Ancient_angst'>Ancient_angst</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Clone Sex, Clone Wars (Star Wars), Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Force Bond (Star Wars), Force-Sensitive Clone Troopers (Star Wars), Gay Panic, I'm Sorry, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Incest, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Near Death Experiences, Repression, Sexual Repression, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, These clones are a mess, They should probably go to the bad batch, War, What Have I Done, Wolffe has a headache, Yeah lol its a mess, how did this happen, i disgust myself, lmao AHHH, sort of slow burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 09:14:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,794</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28910127</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ancient_angst/pseuds/Ancient_angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Two Clone Troopers meet after being transferred to Commander Wolffe's recently decimated 104th battalion. Slicer and Eti are complete opposites, and yet they form a bond like none other. They fall deeply in love. This creates a shit load of problems.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>CC-3636 | Wolffe &amp; Original Male Character(s), Original Clone Trooper Character(s)/Original Clone Trooper Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Discovery</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was watching the Clone Wars and I asked myself what would happen if two clones fell in love with eachother. I have to write this bullshit now, I can't stop myself. Oh my kriffing karabast I wanna die. Sorry for the short intro, the next chapters will go back in time and explore the biggest events until we catch back up to the present, then I'll probs continue from there. eNjOy !¡1</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“So we bang. What’s the big fucking deal.” Clonetrooper Slicer’s monotone greatly disturbed Commander Wolffe.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You-” the Commander placed his arms on the table, as if he was going to launch himself over it, “-are </span>
  <em>
    <span>brothers!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Clonetrooper Eti looked over at Slicer, who was snickering.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe you see it that way, but we don’t. We are not a</span>
  <em>
    <span> family</span>
  </em>
  <span>. We are a </span>
  <em>
    <span>species</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You are genetically the same!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All species share similar genetics, we’re just an extreme case!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>An extreme case!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Wolffe dropped his head into his hands, uttering a noise that sounded vaguely like a chuckle. He then slammed his fists on the table, causing Eti to jump. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You</span>
  </em>
  <span> are the damn “</span>
  <em>
    <span>extreme case,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Slicer. Maybe I should’ve seen this coming. You’ve always been an unorthodox wildcard, using knives instead of guns, keeping tokens from your enemies. Ever wonder why your old battalion was so quick to transfer you? You are an absolute </span>
  <em>
    <span>monstrosity</span>
  </em>
  <span> of a clonetrooper, and a </span>
  <em>
    <span>freak</span>
  </em>
  <span> of nature! I look into your eyes, and I see something </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong inside</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slicer slowly leaned back into his chair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But you-” Wolffe turned, “I never expected this from you, Eti. My most trustworthy trooper, the greatest source of creativity this battalion has ever seen… How could you do something as horrifying as this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eti’s perfect posture diminished as he made eye contact with his commander. Shame burned on his cheeks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I...” his eyes glossed over, “I just love him, sir.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe shook his head as he stared at the trooper. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“What </span><em><span>exactly</span></em><span> is it</span> <span>that you see in him?”  </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eti looked at the trooper to his left. The long scar that ran across his nose was like a permanent blush, the most adorable scar Eti had ever laid eyes on. His slicked black mohawk was a greasy mess, and the strains of loose hair intersected with the toothlike tattoos that ran down both sides of his scalp. He was leaning back in his chair like it was the most comfortable chair in the world. And his eyes, when stared into, gave Eti the feeling of home, as they shone with a unique mix of silver and golden brown. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I see a life. A life outside of the war.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is no life outside of the war for a clone. Not until it’s over.” Wolffe stood up. “I’m turning you two in for deviance and conspiracy to desert.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Eti rushed to block the doorway. “Don’t sir, please! We were never going to leave the army. We want to do our part. We only hypothetically talked about leaving in case we were discovered, because we know we would be executed!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hmph. I still can’t have you spreading your insanity to the other troopers.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s not how it works sir, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and you know it</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Please, there has to be some sort of agreement we can come to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe looked from the puppy-eyed trooper standing in his way, down to the greasy, silver eyed trooper slumped in his chair. Slicer’s eyes never failed to make Wolffe visibly uncomfortable. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Commander,” the greasetrooper overenunciated, “we’ve been with you since the Battle of Khorm, and we’ve saved your life more times than General Plo himself. Whether you like it or not, we are the best troopers in your battalion, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and we are loyal. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You can’t afford to lose us. And honestly, you’re not in much of a position to bargain...” He rose from his chair like a stork from the water, “if you don’t keep our secret, then we won’t keep </span>
  <em>
    <span>yours.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?!” Wolffe’s voice cracked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that’s right! We know about you and- uh… You and...” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We know about you and Bahnto Mendeveln from Coruscant.” Eti swooped in. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe’s cheeks turned a damning shade of red.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I- I don’t know who you’re talking ab-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-Sorry Commander.” Slicer and Eti crossed their arms, making a sort of invisible wall around him. “We didn’t want to use Bahnto against you, but you left us no choice. See, you are the same as us. A </span>
  <em>
    <span>Deviant</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Maybe that’s why you want to destroy us so badly. But now, your only choice is to confide in us. And in turn, we’ll confide in you, so nobody gets executed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How… How could you possibly have found out about…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have a pretty good sense for that kind of stuff, sir. Slicer calls it </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gaydar.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s a shitty name.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, you clearly have it too, so if you come up with something better, let us know.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wolffe grabbed the two troopers by the collar and yanked them towards his misty, scarred eye. Through clenched teeth, his enraged grumbling was barely audible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You two might have gotten lucky this time, but if anyone else in the Republic discovers you, it’s over. So before you make an idiotic decision and get caught, consider how your Commander’s neck is also on the line</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes sir.” They responded. Wolffe released them from his grip.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know,” Eti put a hand on Wolffe’s shoulder, “being a deviant clone can be pretty hard. If you ever wanna talk about it-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“GET OUT!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door slammed shut behind them. The two troopers turned to each other, and burst out laughing. The release of a moment more stressful than any combat they’d ever faced felt like pure euphoria.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hahaha! We’re fucking alive, holy shit. We’re not going to the Execution Range!”  Slicer held Eti’s joyful face in his trembling hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eti grabbed Slicer’s slim shoulders and shook his whole body, cheering back in triumph. The two glanced in either direction to make sure no one was coming into the small corridor, and then embraced in a tight, muscular hug. Slicer could barely breathe under the powerful wrap of Eti’s arms, but the warmth was greatly welcomed. He buried his face into the bulkier man’s shoulder, and grasped onto his soft uniform. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eti ran his hand through Slicer’s hair, and instantly regretted it. He let his hand travel down Slicer’s back, wiping off the grease, and relaxing the backrub-loving trooper. It was the most comfortable, warm moment they’d had in a while. Eti wanted to live in it forever. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We survived </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much longer</span>
  </em>
  <span> than I ever dreamed.” He breathed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slicer unburied his head from Eti’s shirt. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How the fuck did we do it.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. First Meeting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok, so this has turned into a slow burn I guess. Get ready for backstory. It's Rewind Time. (⌐■_■)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>One Year Ago. Three days before Battle of Khorm.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At the Kamino space outpost, the view of the water planet below was a welcome sight. It had been months since CT-1373 had seen his home world, even from space. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He wondered if anyone from his younger days was down by the waters, and if any of them thought about him or remembered him. He had no friends anymore, only </span>
  <em>
    <span>brothers</span>
  </em>
  <span>, who didn’t bother to stop and ask what had brought him to the outpost. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the earliest days of the war, his entire battalion had been wiped out in the battle of Jabiim, including his Jedi. Ever since, he had been thrown into various stealth missions around the galaxy, getting a new group to work with every other rotation. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had grown to adopt a straightforward, shy, and polite personality, as it made working with so many different clones each week much less stressful. He could stay quiet during his least favorite times (social times) and then jump in with conviction when it was battle time. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The job still grew tiresome. Thankfully, a transfer opportunity came along. Another battalion had been wiped out, but their Jedi lived, and they were trying to rebuild. He could now join a permanent group and make permanent friends.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Name!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C-'' his throat betrayed him. *cough* “CT-1373, sir.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“1373, huh? I’ve heard about you... You’re the fancy guy, the one who basically created a god damned code of etiquette</span> <span>for strategists!” The clone chuckled. “They should’ve put you in Kenobi’s Battalion.” </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Actually, I once did a mission with-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Name!” The trooper moved on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“CT-1754. But everyone calls me </span>
  <em>
    <span>Slicer</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” There was a deep quality to the voice of this trooper next to 1373, it sounded so different from the others. However, It was hard to tell if he was just trying really hard, or if his voice was </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> that sexy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well, </span>
  <em>
    <span>sexy</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a- a completely aesthetic, completely platonic, admirable way. 1373 doesn’t even </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> this clonedude. Brotherman. Uh… </span>
  <em>
    <span>Battalion chum</span>
  </em>
  <span>? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So. This your first battalion?” The sexy voice asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, you- you're asking me?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sexy voice nods.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> “Right. Ok, uh, no, not at all. I- I’ve worked with dozens of battalions. I helped with strategy, I never really uh, found a place to stay. Did you not hear the trooper talking to me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah. I’ve taught myself to block out useless conversations that happen around me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>1754 couldn’t see it, but he made 1373 smile.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me too. I hate conversations. I’m trying to get better.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get better? CT-13 whatever, it takes </span>
  <em>
    <span>months</span>
  </em>
  <span> to master the art of conversation blockage! Don’t throw away your skills now, you’ve come so far.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For the first time in a long while, 1373 giggled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Troopers, attention!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A Jedi Master stood in front of the freshly assembled clones.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to the 104th Battalion. I am General Plo Koon from the Jedi Order, and this is Commander Wolffe,” the alien Jedi motioned his long claws to the clone next to him, who was standing proudly. The clone’s armor had a lame grey paint job, which was rather discouraging to see. 1373 tried to visualize a better design. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ve suffered great losses in the past, but today we are reborn. We shall be joining the Battle of Khorm in a few days to prove that we are a valuable new asset to the Republic, and that we can kick some serious </span>
  <em>
    <span>separatist ass</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That wording reminded 1373 of the time he served under General Skywalker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But for the time being, you can do what you must to prepare yourselves for battle, and get to know your fellow troopers. I look forward to learning all of your names, you are dismissed.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They spent the next few days moving artillery, all while the shinies badgered the older clones for  stories from their past and all sorts of annoying shit. Per usual, 1373 was extremely polite, and shut down their conversations as quickly as possible. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t like talking about his past. Yeah, he’d done some great strategy, but there was never a time on the battlefield where he felt he was enjoying himself, or on the other hand, where he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> feel numb. Maybe the numbness wasn’t as bad as when he was off duty, but it still sucked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And none of these shinies wanted to know about his feelings, or lack thereof. Hell, talking about your feelings is practically a crime for a clone trooper. The war comes first, and 1373 understands that. The war is what created him in the first place, and having purpose helped him stay alive these past few years. He still wished he could talk about the empty void inside of himself, even if it was of little importance.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The final night arrived, and everyone gathered in their shared quarters to ease some stress. They played cards and drank water, since Wolffe was strict about beverages on the cruiser. 1373 forced himself to play with the others, though he quickly became bored as he destroyed his challengers over and over again at every game they had learned while traveling around the galaxy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He glanced at the corner of the corridor, planning where he would escape to if he could, and was surprised to see it occupied. A lone dark haired clone with a bandage across his cheeks and nose was leaned against the wall, where he seemed to be sharpening a special knife under the table. Clones were only supposed to have Republic-issued weapons, and 1373 had never seen anything like that issued before.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Etiquette</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you’re not even paying attention!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Without looking, 1373 put his cards on the table.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got 22.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The crowd around the table collectively shouted in disappointment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This guy has to be cheating, let me have a go!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m done now. Thank you very much for the games.” 1373 got up, and the clones mockingly bowed their heads.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Thank </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>for the games, o’ great and honorable Etiquette.” The clones cackled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tuned out the rest of their comments and went to sit at the corner table. He focused on his hands placed perfectly atop the table in an attempt to find some inner peace. The dark haired clone turned to him, concealing his knife behind his leg.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You here to lecture me on procedure or something?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>1373 immediately recognized the voice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” He answered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The dark haired clone squinted his eyes in suspicion, looking a bit like a Dantooine tiger. 1373 figured that if he didn’t elaborate, this guy would probably pounce on him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m getting away from the others. I don’t care about your non Republic-issue knife.” He sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hm,” the clone started sharpening under the table again, “have we met?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was next to you in line on the first day. You’re Slicer, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. And you’re the shy one.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>1373’s chest burned with embarrassment. Slicer definitely did not sugarcoat things. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“People call you Etiquette?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>1373 nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Long name. I like it though.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This was very affirming for Etiquette to hear. He felt the rare urge to keep the conversation going. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So… I never got the chance to ask before. Is this </span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> first battalion?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, and I got this extremely precise and torturous wound on my face from my training.” Etiquette stared at Slicer in shock, who then smiled at the reaction. “No, it’s not my first. I served under Bultar Swan for a long time, and then suddenly, I got transferred. I still don’t know why, I think maybe it’s because of these Kleesian Knives I stole from Lourvieen. Or maybe it’s the Marlek cuffs I took from Bantu, or the Jeyshnin ribbons…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“ What the- do you take things from every place that you go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That depends. Would you tell the commander if I did?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Etiquette </span>
  <em>
    <span>would </span>
  </em>
  <span>usually report things like that, but he didn’t want Slicer to hate him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” He shrugged. A beautiful smile stretched across Slicer’s face, it seemed Etiquette had made a friend. He stuttered on, “In fact, I- I’ll help you find something cool to take from Khorm!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Slicer raised his eyebrows and leaned on the table to get a closer look at Etiquette.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” He asked. His voice was surprised, in a genuine, soft way.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Of course. You’re my only friend.” Etiquette cringed at his own depressing statement. This would surely scare Slicer off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Same!” Slicer slapped his hand on Etiquette’s shoulder and gave him a shake. “You know, even with my old battalion, I avoided the groups, but I never stopped anyone from sitting with me. You’re the first person to actually approach me, and not just because the other tables are full. It’s nice. And I’ll admit, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I am </span>
  </em>
  <span>a loner or whatever, but that doesn’t mean I’m not hella fucking lonely sometimes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hearing this was bizarre for Etiquette. He couldn’t believe that any clone was just as lonely as he was, and was also brave enough to say it out loud. And he had just met Slicer, how did he trust him with such sacred information so quickly? It was almost like he knew he had the same issue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He looked up to see Slicer with a gentle smile, a complete change from the fierce scowl he’d been sporting up until a minute ago. Etiquette didn’t understand the things that it made him feel, but it made his heart race. He fiddled with his sleeves, trying to gain control over his sweaty hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I… I’m also lonely.” He cringed again. “Sometimes! Obviously. I’m not lonely </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> the time, I mean, we’re never </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> surrounded by brothers, right? Heh.” He couldn’t bear to make eye contact, thinking he had once again killed the conversation with awkwardness. But Slicer just shook his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Brothers.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” He scoffed. “Guess we’re the disowned ones then, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They laughed. Etiquette had never felt empowerment over his issues until he’d heard this lame joke from a kleptomaniac loner with a mohawk. What a surreal night it was, and it continued as the two of them talked until even the most night owl of clones had retreated to their sleeping pods. They could’ve talked until the morning, but seeing as it was invasion day, they decided to get some rest. They waved goodnight to each other until Slicer had completely disappeared into the other corridor of pods. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Etiquette fell asleep with a smile that night, and slept soundly. Every other clone was restless with nerves, but not him. He had things to dream about.</span>
</p>
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